


The Bet

by coveredbyroses



Series: Birthday Drabbles 2018 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, Overstimulation, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: What happens when you lose a bet to a demon?





	The Bet

“I’ll pass, sugar,” Dean says, licking remnants of top-shelf whiskey from his lips.

“Who says you have a choice?” You bite, freeing the enchanted cuffs from your back pocket.

“Really? We gonna do this right here? In front of God and everybody?”

“That’s up to you.”

Dean’s eyes slide from yours to the metal restraints...then back to your unmoving gaze. He props an arm against the varnished bar counter, leans into you. “I gotcha one better,” he rumbles, lips curling into a wicked grin.

“Yeah?” you counter. The word comes out breathier than you’d like to admit.

“Mmhmm.” He juts his chin over your shoulder toward the felt green pool table behind you.

“You win––I’ll go back with you, face my brother. I win…” Emerald eyes rove over the length of your body. “I win––you n’ me find us a room and catch up on the last few months. You followin’ me?”

Shit. Too-familiar heat ignites your skin, settling hot between your thighs. You couldn’t possibly be considering this. Not with a demon. He may be Dean Winchester, but right now he’s a monster. An enemy.

“Fine,” you agree before your brain has the chance to stop you. “But how do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t,” he winks, lips pulling into a grin that bares perfect, ivory teeth. “But what choice do ya have?”

You take a steadying breath. He makes a valid point; you really don’t have a choice. You can’t overpower him and you know it. This may very well be the only way to get him to Sam.

*****

An hour later you stand with your fingers curled around your cue, can feel yourself deflate as you watch Dean effortlessly sink the eight-ball. Fuck.

He tosses his cue on the table, rounds the corner, looms closer and closer.

You don’t stop him when he pulls the cue from your grip, don’t stop him when he hooks a heavy arm around your waist, jerking you until your breasts are mashed against his chest.

*****

This isn’t how the night was supposed to go. You should be halfway to the bunker by now. Not spread out on a cheap motel bed with your hands cuffed over your head, legs hooked over a demon’s shoulders.

Your teeth are embedded in the pillow of your lower lip as Dean licks you; long, wet-hot strokes, plush lips and blunt teeth joining intermittently. He hums as he feasts on you, the rumbling vibrations pulsing deep into your core.

You cry out when he works a thick finger inside, shoving in  _deep-deep-deep._

Your hips helplessly buck into his face when he seals scratchy-soft lips around your throbbing clit. He worms another finger in and sucks––

You squeal out your orgasm through clenched teeth, squirming and writhing––

You pull your knees back, plant the arches of your feet against his solid shoulders and push––

Dean clamps a muscled arm down over your belly, shoves his face harder into you, harsh stubble reddening your swollen flesh as he keeps sucking, keeps fucking his fingers into you.

“Please,” you choke. “I––I can’t...oh god, I can’t!”

Dean doesn’t answer, just seals his lips tighter, pumps faster––

Everything goes numb, you don’t feel anything…

And then, like a tidal wave, a second climax is pouring out of you. It’s more powerful than the first, and  _wet_.

You pant at the ceiling as the aftershocks finally slow to a halt.

“Damn, baby,” Dean groans, breath fanning hot against your glistening folds. “Knew you’d be a squirter...Let’s see if you can do that again.”

Oh god.


End file.
